


Joint Fire Support Team

by gelbes_gilatier



Category: Generation Kill, Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, Brad Colbert being awesome, Crossover, F/M, Gen, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Marines, NCOs are the backbone of the Corps, Off-Screen Whump, Painting, Recon Marines know best, Reunions, welcome back to Atlantis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-31
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2017-10-30 09:37:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/330320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gelbes_gilatier/pseuds/gelbes_gilatier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sergeant Brad Colbert, First Recon, USMC has been to a few strange places in his career. Atlantis tops them all. Series of one-shots featuring Brad Colbert and various Atlantis characters who all wanted to be in a scene with him. But then again, who wouldn't?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Drowning on Dry Land

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Rock Happy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/321928) by [ArwenLune](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArwenLune/pseuds/ArwenLune). 



> Eh. This was inspired both by **hanseatic_keks** who gave me a Generation Kill/Stargate prompt for this year's Holiday Fic Request Meme and thus made me finally read and watch _Generation Kill_ and **ArwenLune** who took that prompt as an inspiration to start _Rock Happy_ which is about the coolest thing I'm currently waiting for to be continued and her idea to use Laura Cadman and Brad Colbert in a fic. Originally, this one was rather supposed to be a one-shot but... my characters apparently love to ~~betray me~~ ~~screw me over~~ surprise me and there were a few other Atlantis characters who wanted to appear in a fic together with Brad Colbert, so, uh, this kind of became a 'verse. Going by the name of _Joint Fire Support Team_ *rolls eyes at self
> 
> Anyway, this is my first story involving _Generation Kill_ and there are no words for how nervous I'm about it. I'm brand new to the fandom and for some reason, _Generation Kill_ seems to be intimidating as a fandom (although I'm sure you're all great people!) and uh.. be gentle? Please?
> 
> Also, anyone finding messed up homophones, please jump on them, trample them down and then hand them to me. I will do with them what they deserve. They are my personal nemesis. (ask my part-time beta, **mackenziesmomma** )

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura Cadman wouldn't be the first Lieutenant Sergeant Brad Colbert is giving some gentle nudges into the right direction. If she'd just let him.

** Drowning on Dry Land **

 

_“Come on and wade, way out into the water with me,_  
we're drowning on dry land.  
Come on and wade way out into the water with me...  
Jump in and take my hand.” 

_Celtic Storm, “Scalliwag”_

 

It’s been going on for a few days now. Ever since Cadman dragged their Zoomie XO into what’s called the Gate Control room around here and kept yelling at him that she’ll fucking kill him with her own fucking hands if he dared dying on her. Left a fucking bloody trail all over the floor bleeding from a couple holes. It’s actually a miracle he didn’t bleed to death.

 

Lorne’s been in the infirmary since then while Cadman seems to be prowling the city, ready to pick a fight with whomever would be stupid enough to stand in her way. He’s pretty sure she left a couple of zoologists traumatized when they dared to have a little chat outside her boom shack yesterday. He’s  _almost_  sure she even gave that overblown Canadian physicist ego McKay a run for his money because whenever someone utters her name in his vicinity he goes all pale and excuses himself from the conversation since two days ago.

 

So it's probably a supreme example of some fucking heroics that he's standing outside the workout room and contemplating to tell her...  _ask_  her not to monopolize the fucking punching bag. He's been here for at least 30 and the only time she stopped beating it to pulp was to up the volume of the crap she's currently listening to. Something with a screeching female sounding even more pissed than Cadman looks. At least it's not hip hop or, Heaven forbid, country.

 

But yeah, he really wants to use that punching bag himself, so he squares his shoulders and takes a step into the room. There’s no reason to be scared of anything inside the workout room. They used to call him Iceman, so he can very well take on one little Lieutenant, Marine or not. She’s not Nathaniel Fick, after all.

 

He takes another step but she keeps pummeling the bag. He clears his throat. She doesn't stop. He rolls his eyes. "Ma'am?" Still no reaction. "Excuse me,  _ma'am_?"

 

Ah. She stops and he notices dark spots on the grey fabric that wraps the punching back. The subsequent look at her knuckles confirms it. She came here for the pain. He knows that strategy. Some Marines, they seek pain when something went FUBAR, when they're blaming themselves. He never thought Cadman would be one of them. But then again, since he arrived here, she'd never been in a fuck-up, or at least none that involved bloody trails on the Gate room floor and a trauma team performing emergency surgery right fucking there. 

 

The music stops.

 

" _What_ , Sergeant?" And that... isn't really the Cadman he got to know. He'd been wary of the officers he encountered in Atlantis, even though all the enlisted men at the Mountain told him it's different from the usual fucked up chain of command and she'd been one of those to surprise him with how approachable she was and how much weight she put in the words of enlisted men, rolling her eyes and telling him he's five years her senior and probably has ten years of combat experience under his belt so what did he expect? That she'd yell at him and give a rat's ass about whatever the fuck he's telling her? 

 

No way, she'd said. No fucking way and now she's staring at him with eyes blazing in anger and bloodied knuckles that seem to be itching for more than just some stuffed canvas. He resists rolling his eyes. Hers is a shitty coping strategy and she should know it. "Just wondering when I might get a go, ma'am."

 

“When I’m done with mine, Sergeant.” Whoa. That was clear. A lesser man would probably have been real frightened.

 

He’s no lesser man, though. So he figures grabbing the bull by its horns could actually serve a good purpose here. “There’s blood on the punching bag, ma’am,” he points out to her. He abstains from mentioning the blood on her knuckles.

 

She looks at the bag and what gets to him is the bafflement blooming on her face. It’s worse than he thought. She doesn’t even feel the pain she came here for.

 

After a moment of confused silence, he sees her face going blank. Like those Marines who simply shut down in the face of brutality and suffering. He never thought _Lieutenant Laura Cadman_ of all people would be capable of that. “I’ll be okay.”

 

Right. That one he knows. Cadman might be female, but apparently, female Marines learn the same routine when handling injury that male Marines do. As long as it’s not life threatening, they just pretend there’s nothing there. That was one of the things that really took some getting used to.

 

But it’s not the physical injury that makes the alarm bells ring in the back of his mind that he got every time one of his men wasn’t okay in Iraq. He decides to be blunt with her. Someone should have done this days ago. “I don’t think so, ma’am. I really don’t think you’re going to be okay the way you’re going about this mission fuck-up.” For a moment he wonders if he should have added “with all due respect” but he’s pretty sure Cadman knows he respects her. Every Marine, be it male or female, serving in a combat unit like a Gate team deserves his respect.

 

At first, it looks as if she’d go and bust his ass after all but then she just shakes her head. “I fucked up the mission, Sergeant. This is my way of dealing with it.”

 

Bullshit. “This is _no_ way of dealing with it.”

 

She eyes him, as if she’s taken aback a little but then she tries to assume the stance usually officers that he couldn’t stand assumed. “I’m pretty sure I’m fit to decide whichever way I want to deal with crap like this.”

 

He’s pretty sure she’s fit for a lot of things – she did get Lorne back in time to Atlantis, after all, and apparently almost singlehandedly at that, seeing as her team had been more occupied with providing cover for her to drag him through the Gate – but not for _that_. He understands that she wouldn’t want to talk to a shrink or a padre. That’s normal. For a Marine, anyway. What’s not normal is that she wouldn’t turn to another Marine. Or maybe even a Zoomie. Or a scientist. A peer, as the people over in Social Sciences would say.

 

He flexes his hands. Sometimes, when a Marine doesn’t want to talk… you have to _make_ them talk. He’s pretty sure she’d not reject a little advice from a Sergeant with a bit of Recon experience. “Ma’am, missions get fucked up all the time. It’s a fact of life.”

 

She snorts but beneath the derision, he can hear a sort of bitter desperation. “Oh really? And  _nearly getting your fucking commanding officer killed_? Is  _that_  a fact of life, too?”

 

This is familiar. Actually, it's like Iraq all over again. It's Trombley after shooting the shepherd and Walt after shooting the unarmed man in the blue sedan. Only Cadman didn't shoot the enemy. He's got no idea  _what_  happened but she seems to think she's responsible for Lorne ending up in the infirmary. That just can't be healthy. “Yes, ma’am, even that is.”

 

There’s a sound from her. Like a strangled sob she only held back because she remembered you weren’t supposed to cry in front of anyone, at any time as a female Marine just in time. She tries a different route instead. “Fuck you, Sergeant.”

 

His first impulse is to tell her he might actually take one of them – her or Mehra or any of the  other female Marines or Airmen – up on the offer if they keep saying that but he’s not a sexist asshole, nor does he hate women, despite everything people might have believed of him whenever Ray told them he doesn’t intend to get married because of the girl who dumped him for his best friend.

 

Instead of saying that, he gears up to get her back to talking to him but she’s faster, throwing her hands up and saying, “This is pointless. I got better things to do.”

 

Yeah, he can see what _that_ is supposed to be. Beating up a poor innocent punching bag and ruining her hands in the process. Not on his watch. “You mean like visiting Major Lorne in the infirmary, ma’am?”

 

“Shut the fuck up and get the fuck out of here, _Sergeant_.” It’s a good reaction. It means he struck the right cord. She _really_ hasn’t been down to the infirmary yet. That really isn’t like her, who’d gone out of her way to make sure her teammates were treated well by the infirmary staff whenever someone landed their ass there as long as he’s been here. He knows that much about her.

 

It’s also a very good opening for him to dig in to. “I will, ma’am. If you do me the favor and explain to an ignorant Sergeant why you would drag your CO’s ass back all the way to the city and yell at him loud enough for everyone including your  _CO_ ’s CO to hear only to never see how he’s doing.”

 

It’s not that he doesn’t have an idea what that could be. It’s just that he thinks she needs to spell it out, for her sake. “I know how he’s doing, Sergeant.”

 

Holy shit. She just managed to surprise him enough that he only wonders, “How?”

 

She runs one of her hands through her unruly, sticky hair, obviously still oblivious to the damage she wrecked on her hands. There’s a strange burning, pained expression in her eyes when she finally looks at him again. As if she’s been trying to fight so that she doesn’t have to cry. “I just…  _do_. Listen, I don’t need to explain myself to you. Or anyone else for that matter.” Why are you gearing up to do it anyway, then, he wants to ask but knows it’s wiser to keep that to himself. It looks very much like she’s finally going to open up to him. “I know that Major Lorne is in the ICU and hasn’t woken up yet. I also know that Dr. Keller thinks he’s going to pull through but that he’s not out of the woods yet. I  _know_  all that.” That didn’t answer his question. But the next sentence does. “I just don’t want to see it.”

 

He lets that sink in. The bruised knuckles, the hair that looks nothing like her usual neat and regulation abiding pinned up hair, the little smear of blood against her cheek she left when she rubbed against it with the back of her hand, the fidgeting. The words. _I just don’t want to see it._ There was something to it… something sad and desperate, even a little defiant. Something that struck him as odd. “You got anything going on with the Major, ma’am?”

 

 _That_ was probably a bad idea. “What the everloving fucking hell  _is_  it that makes all you stupid knuckleheads insinuate that a female Marine just  _has_  to be sleeping with her superior because we’re obviously all just career driven bitches every damn time we even so much as look at a soldier with a fucking dick which is basically all the fucking  _time_?”

 

Not quite sure if that statement really made sense, he takes his time to answer. This reeks of having touched a nerve, the way she lit up at the question, not meant to be insinuating _anything_. As if she’s been waiting for someone to ask it for a very long time, ready to shoot down anyone who did.

 

And maybe she was. Or maybe she’s had people making unfounded accusations about sleeping her way up the chain of command since basic training. Maybe it’s one of  those female armed forces personnel things he hadn’t even been fully aware of  before coming here and starting to work with female soldiers that were actually going into battle as full-fledged team members. He decides to give her the benefit of a doubt. “It was a objective question to assess the situation, ma’am.”

 

Cadman, still seems to be livid about his question… up until he tells her he’d just wanted to have some information on something, not imply something inappropriate. The question actually makes her take a break, a deep breath and a step back, figuratively. He’s pretty  sure Cadman wouldn’t back down literally from _anyone_. It takes her another moment in which the guilt over Lorne’s condition returns to her face until she asks quietly, “Does it really matter?”

 

He contemplates that. From a strictly formal stance it does matter. A fucking lot, even. It matters everything if she’s sleeping with her team leader or not. He’s not stupid, though. Even if it’s not his style, he knows that war zones aren’t non-sexual, non-feeling zones. Actually, he knows war zones to be among the most sexual zones known to men.

 

It’s not only all the sex talk bullshitting of men hyped up on adrenaline and deprived of female company. It’s couples of all sexes and builds sneaking around base camps, sometimes even FOBs. It’s kissing in dark corners and making out in latrine stalls. Actually, to his knowledge, Atlantis is pretty tame in that regard, tamer than Camp Pendleton or even Camp Mathilda or any other camps in war zones and stateside he’d been stationed at.

 

As for Cadman and Lorne’s case… “No, ma’am.” Because even if she _is_ sleeping with him… why the fuck is it important? He’s never seen them behave unprofessionally to anyone, and he knows that if Cadman gets promoted, and hopefully soon, it wouldn’t be because she’s fucking one of her superiors. She’s above that.

 

Even her current behavior, while not _exactly_ professional, probably stems more from the fact that whatever happened on that mission to get Lorne shot up like that she considers to be her fault than having any romantic feelings she can’t get under control. It’s a fucking truckload of guilt that makes her do this, guilt that doesn’t have anything to do with other personal feelings. He knows that. He’s seen it in others, occasionally even in himself.

 

It’s probably why she doesn’t answer anything, just nods with a deep breath, in the near desperate attempt at keeping back the tears. He’s close to telling her to stop that crap and just goddamn cry but it probably wouldn’t go over well so all he does is say, a lot softer than he’d intended to, “Someone should have a look at your hands, ma’am.”

 

She looks at him, a bit like deer in headlights, then at her hands and it dawns on him that this really is the first time she notices how much she wrecked them. Slowly, she flexes them and it seems that the pain starts to set in only now. When she looks at him again, he wishes she hadn’t. He’s tempted to say he never saw a Marine look like that but that’s bullshit. The one he saw in the field out of Nasiriyah, the one who lost his unit and just kept wandering around… for a moment she looked just like him. “Yeah, I guess someone should.”

 

He could leave it at that, move past her, have a go at the punching bag himself. Or he could do his job as a Sergeant and show a Lieutenant the way out of SNAFU she doesn’t know how to get out of herself. He’s just too damn dutiful for his own fucking good. “I just remembered I got a couple things to do at the infirmary. Care to come along, ma’am?”

 

For a very long moment, she seems to seriously consider it, even on the verge of saying no when she finally nods and says, “Can’t harm, right?”

 

Ridiculously relieved, he shakes his head no and turns to go, Cadman actually leaving with him. He’s about to start in a quick pace he’s used to from her – this is kind of urgent after all – but quickly adjusts to the slow steps she makes today. Baby steps, he thinks, and nearly winces because it sounds just so damn corny.

 

It doesn’t matter, he thinks a moment later. What matters is that she’s taking steps forward, however slow they are. It’s a lot better than tearing up her knuckles against a punching bag at least. Things can only get better for her now. He’s kind of glad he was the one showing her the right direction. It means he hasn’t lost his touch. It’s a good feeling.


	2. Better Treat Her Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, Dr. Jennifer Keller doesn't mind a little tactical fire support.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. I'm not... sure about this. I asked **hanseatic_keks** to look it over and she made a valuable point of some of Colbert's trademark dry wit lacking in the chapter even though there were a few points where I could have inserted them. I did look over the chapter and editted a few parts _but_... I'm not sure if it really worked. (the main thing is that Jennifer Keller is a female civilian _and_ kind of a figure of authority (at least in a formal way), despite everything and honestly... that's what made this so difficult to figure everything out. I'd be very happy about any input whatsoever. Seriously. I mean it.)

** Better Treat Her Right **  
  


_"She works hard for the money  
So hard for it, honey_ _  
She works hard for the money  
So you better treat her right."  
  
_

_Gloria Summer, "She Works Hard For The Money"_

  
It’s been an uneventful day so far. A few minor injuries or complaints and no missions gone wrong until now and she hopes it stays that way. After Laura dragging Major Lorne into the Gate room having half bled to death, she's glad things have quieted down. It's six months since she took over the infirmary from Carson but some days make her feel like she's back in her first internship, overwhelmed and scared to death. The day Major Lorne nearly died in her OR was one of them. 

  
But they could stabilize him and he's been in the ICU ever since. He didn't wake up yet, mainly due to the fact that they had to put him in an artificial coma. There's a lot of healing technology buried in this city and some of it they could resurrect. It's helping her patients, but it also usually demands for them to be in some form of stasis, artificial coma or other inconvenient condition. She honestly wonders if that is just because they still haven't fully understood Ancient tech or because the Ancients simply forgot to improve their devices in that regard. She tends toward the latter, simply because the Ancients were  _the Ancients_. 

 

So, anyway, at least she can finally get to organize the antibiotics shelf and... "Hey, Jennifer."  _Darnit._

 

Trying to look calm and composed and not like the jumpy chicken people think her to be, she turns around to see Laura Cadman standing in the doorway and... one of the Marines that came here a couple of months ago, Recon or whatever they called themselves. A Sergeant something or other… Colbert, yes, that’s him.

 

She hasn't seen much of that particular soldier because somehow he never really needed the infirmary's attention until now. Quick post-mission and obligatory check-ups, in, out, gone again, that was it for the most part. Compared to the other soldiers on base, he's actually a miracle. So it's a veritable mystery to her why he'd suddenly be standing there with Laura.

 

It is, however, not a mystery at all why  _Laura_  is here. A look at her hands speaks volumes. She frowns. "Laura, what..." The Sergeant standing behind Laura shakes his head in a very small movement, peering at her with serious blue eyes... obviously trying to tell her something. She turns back to Laura with a tight little smile that probably looks as fake as it feels. "Never mind."

 

Laura, in turn, shrugs with an almost embarrassed self-conscious little half-smile. "I, uh... I think I need some... I had a little... run-in with... um.."

 

That really isn't like Laura.  _Most of all_ , it's not like Laura  _in front of other soldiers_. However, she's not stupid. A civilian, maybe, but not stupid. So she decides to treat this as if there was nothing out of the ordinary. "Let's get that wrapped, huh." A little... relieved, Laura nods and she walks over to the first aid cabinet to gather a few supplies, beckoning Laura to follow her.

 

Colbert keeps standing in the doorway... as if he wants to make sure... make sure  _what_? That Laura is taken care of? Of course she would be. She's her friend and... and there's probably more to the scrapes than just "I had a run-in with whatever." And she remembers that particular Sergeant being spoken of as a veritable mother hen. Oh  _fine_. She gives the Sergeant a very firm nod and after one of those indecipherable looks he'd been throwing her since Laura and he arrived here, he leaves.

 

She concentrates on Laura again. 

 

The first thing she does is have a good look at Laura's scraped knuckles. Or trying to make it look like she does that while she does a much more important assessment of Laura's mental state. She’s not stupid and she isn’t blind, either so she was well aware of Laura’s less than ideal reaction to Major Lorne’s predicament. It’s not the first time she reacted to a mission gone down the drain with a few days of scowling and snapping at people. It is, however, the first time ever she did something to herself.

 

She’d like to believe that the bruised and bloodied knuckles are the result of some duty related accident or other but Laura being in what they call PT clothes, looking like she’d been at it for quite some time was a dead giveaway. That and the fact that Colbert wouldn’t leave until she’d communicated to him that she’d take care of Laura.

 

She looks at her friend’s face and finds her only looking away. That’s never a good sign. Laura usually doesn’t do looking away. She looks you in the eye, makes sure you know that she’s talking to _you_. Laura Cadman just doesn’t do retreats. Her doctor’s instinct is screaming at her that she needs to know what exactly is going on with Laura but the part of her that knows Laura as a friend, as a soldier and as a person knows that if she’d start prying now, she’d run against a wall bigger than the Great one in China. She resists sighing. “Okay, I’d like to x-ray this…”

 

“No. No, that’s… it’s okay. I don’t think there’s anything broken.” That’s not even… Laura’s normal reaction to medical attention.

 

Oh, okay, it kind of is. But… it also isn’t? It’s the tone, she thinks. It’s not Laura’s usual devil may care attitude, mixed with that weird understatement and modesty in face of injury that all soldiers seem to have to a certain degree. It’s… defeated. Something isn’t right here. In fact, something is _tremendously_ wrong. She decides to play the COM card. “Maybe, but quite frankly, that’s not yours to decide. There could still be hairline fractures and even though you might not believe it, those could definitely harm your… what’s the word?”

 

“Combat readiness?” Laura helps out and adds, “Quite frankly, _I_ don’t think hairline fractures are going to be my biggest problem in the near future.”

 

Whatever does she mean by _that_ , she wonders. As far as she knows, Laura did her best and actually _saved_ Major Lorne on that mission. She always thought soldiers get medals for that, not reprimands. Again, she finds herself wondering what _exactly_ happened on that mission. Hopefully, she’ll learn about that when Major Lorne wakes up, if Laura doesn’t have an unexpected fit of tell all before that. And she’s still the… the _goddamn_ Chief of Medicine in Atlantis. “They’re my biggest concern _right now_ so stop whining and get your… behind to the radiology chamber.”

 

Did she just see a faint smirk on Laura’s face? Genuine amusement, even? “Yes, ma’am, I’ll get my ass over to the radiology chamber.” Phew. So she _didn’t_ lose her sense of humor, as she’d heard Marines and other personnel in the city assuming, most of all Rodney and those two guys from Zoology… anyway. X-ray her hands. Yes.

 

Not making any more fuss, Laura accompanies her to radiology and while she waits for the radiographer to finish the shots, she gets some more time to watch her friend. There’s something in her posture… that strikes her. She’s… she’s not slumped but she misses the energy that Laura usually radiates and mischievous twinkle in her eyes. Somehow… where Laura exuded aggression and anger in the last couple of days, she only appears weary and even a little exhausted now. As if she tries to hold up a front but is losing the fight against herself. Oh Laura, she thinks.

 

When the technician is done, he signals her that he sent the shots to her intranet account and she pulls them up on her tablet while Laura comes walking over. She frowns. Mh… okay… no, that looks to be alright. She’s relieved because she’d have hated to have to pull Laura off the off-world roster. _Laura_ would have hated her for that, and even herself even more. “So… what’s up, Doc?”

 

She rolls her eyes. “You got off lucky, Bugs Bunny.”

 

Laura actually kind of perks up. “Oh, good, I guess that means you don’t have to…”

 

What… nuh-uh. Laura will _not_ get away like _that_ , because the damn scrapes need dressing and… she realizes that Laura needs something else here, as well. “Oh no, you don’t.”

 

“Aw, come on, Jennifer, can’t I just…”

 

 _No_? “Definitely not. Laura, I have to…” Did she really just try to leave anyway? Good God. “ _Lieutenant Cadman_.” Apparently, Major Lorne and Colonel Sheppard aren’t the only people addressing Laura by her rank works for. She needs to remember that for the future. “You’re going to stay here until I had a look at those bruises and wrapped them up.” Mh. Why is it that Laura is starting to look… desperate? Is that the right word? “That’s final, Laura. Someone needs to have a look at those and I don’t have anything to do, anyway.”

 

That is not _quite_ true and for a moment it looks as if Laura is going to voice that thought but in the end… she seems to… deflate a little and simply nods so she starts working at the bruises. During cleaning them, she can feel Laura wanting to wince every time she touches them but being the stoic warrior she tries everyone to tell she is, Laura never says anything, not even moves. That’s… disconcerting because usually, Laura loves to joke about doctors obviously being sadists reveling in the pain of their victims.

 

All during taking care of Laura’s hands she tries to find a way to learn what _exactly_ this is about. She gets that Laura is really upset by what happened to Major Lorne – not for the first time, she wonders if there’s anything else than just a professional relationship between Laura and Major Lorne – more than usual but that she would start harming herself? That’s new.

 

The Laura she knows wouldn’t do that to herself, would never do anything to hamper her “combat readiness”, anything that made her unfit for duty. Unless… unless this wasn’t _intentional_ harm. She wishes she could have talked to Colbert for a moment, to ask him how he found Laura and what she was doing but she’s pretty good at deducting that herself.

 

Laura must have been working out, because that’s what Laura does when she’s upset about something: she tries to get right of it with physical exertion. And she knows Laura’s more of a martial arts person than a running person. She knows Laura has a fondness for battering a punching bag… that was a no-brainer. She should have known _that_ way back when Colbert brought Laura here.

 

Taking a short moment to fit the bandages for Laura’s right hand she takes another look at her. Yeah, the punching bag. She wonders how often Laura visited it in the last couple of days to make her knuckles raw enough that she would draw blood and it starts to dawn on her that this time, Laura isn’t furious about a command decision or one of her men or someone from the science department making a mistake. All her anger is directed at _herself_ and she’s pretty sure it has to do something with the mission. She must be blaming herself for… for the way Major Lorne came back to Atlantis.

 

Well. That would also explain why she didn’t see Laura here until now. Finishing the last dressing she makes a decision. “So… I’m not going to put you on light duty, but please do me a favor?” Laura eyes her warily. “Don’t try anything Muhammad Ali as long as that isn’t fully healed.”

 

Finally, there’s something of the old Laura in her. She was never so glad to see the laconic eye rolling as now. “Yeah, yeah. Can I go…”

 

“I’d like to show you something.” That… came out quieter than she intended to and maybe that’s why Laura seems to realize almost immediately what this is about.

 

Again, that strange kind of quiet desperation that she’s seen lurking behind Laura’s façade shows. It’s like she desperately wants to get out of here but has no idea where to. “Jennifer, I…”

 

“Come on. You need to see this.” Maybe Kate would tell her it’s a bad idea. Maybe Kate’s replacement, Dr. Eshkol, would tell her so too, were she here now instead of M5Z-683 for the first Pegasus pangalactic conference on trauma psychology. But she’s got a feeling Laura _really_ needs to see what she’s going to show her.

 

So she doesn’t except excuses and steers Laura in the direction of the ICU. Currently, Major Lorne is the only patient there and as soon as Laura realizes where they’re going, she becomes tense and tightlipped. She’s pretty sure Laura would also like to turn around immediately but she counted on Laura’s philosophy of never backing down once she decided to go along with something and it’s working.

 

When they reach Major Lorne’s current room, it _very_ much looks like Laura is ready to balk at the sight of her CO wired to a couple of monitors, even though it looks a lot worse than it actually is. Since two days he’s breathing on his own again and she’s confident that they’ll be able to wake him up in a couple of days and won’t need any new surgeries.

 

But Laura doesn’t know that. Laura only heard everything about him second hand and a look at her face tells her why she never came here on her own. She’s seen a lot, even in her rather short career as a doctor but she thinks she never saw guilt like that before. Knowing Laura usually tries to avoid anything that makes her look soft in public, she puts a hand on her shoulder and squeezes anyway. When Laura looks at her, she tries to give her an encouraging smile. “I think he’d like some company.”

 

Okay, what she’d _really_ wanted to say was “I think he’d like _your_ company” but judging from how Laura usually reacts when people start making educated guesses about the nature of her relationship with Major Lorne – and, granted, also her relationship with any of the other soldiers – that doesn’t really sound like a good idea. Again, civilian, not stupid.

 

“I… wouldn’t be so sure about that, Jennifer.” Mh. She’s tempted to ask what exactly happened on that mission, after all but she won’t hear about it as long as Laura doesn’t _want_ to tell her.

 

So she does the next best thing. “But _I_ am sure about it. Go on. It’s not like he’s gonna bite you, you know.” It makes Laura roll her eyes and make a face.

 

Then she looks at the Major again and there seems to be a… shift in her stance. Something… as if she… _accepted_ something? Wow, having been COM for six months actually did wonders to her capability to read people. That’s kind of… amazing. “I can’t hurt him by just sitting at his side for a while, right?”

 

The growing desire to put her arms around her friend and give her a long, tight hug to squeeze out all the guilt and the hurt reaches a new peak after days of watching her taking out her self-anger at anyone who crossed her path. Maybe she’s gonna do that when they’re in less public surroundings. Right now... “No, Laura. Just sit down and maybe talk a little to him. I really think he’ll appreciate that.”

 

There’s one last resigned and somehow also relieved look from Laura and then she squares her shoulders and walks over the chair that’s been permanently placed next to Major Lorne. She knows she should give the two of them some privacy but something in her makes her stay, just for a little while longer, just to make sure Laura’s gonna be okay. It’s why she watches Laura sit down carefully next to the bed and sitting perched on the edge of the chair a little stiffly for a moment before she tentatively leans back and then curls up as well as you can in an office chair. Well, good to know that she finally settled…

 

“Any news on the Major, ma’am?” Holy fucking _crap_. “Sorry, ma’am, I didn’t want to…”  
  


“Scare the crap out of me? Don’t worry, Sergeant, that frequently happens to me.” She can’t help smiling a little self-deprecatingly at Colbert who just somehow managed to materialize next to her and make her actually jump with his quiet question. Feeling the familiar tug of bashfulness under the inscrutable gaze of the Sergeant she always feels in the presence of people much more experienced and self-assured than herself, she tries to get a grip on herself and escapes to her only real area of expertise. “Anyway, uh… Major Lorne’s stable for now, and I think we’ll be able to wake him up in about two or three days, depending on how well he responds to Ancient technology therapy.”

 

“Good to hear, ma’am.” For some reason… it surprises her how honest Colbert sounds about this. Or maybe it just surprised her that they’re currently having something that could almost be called a conversation.

 

Or, okay, _had_ a conversation because as suddenly as it began she’s out of topics to talk to him about… until she realizes that he didn’t look away from her because she bored him. It’s just that she seems not to be the only one interested in Laura’s well-being. It makes her smile a little and prompts her to say, “Thanks for bringing her here, Sergeant.”

 

There’s an awkward moment in which Colbert looks almost… _embarrassed_? Nah, he doesn’t, she thinks. You were imagining that. So she’s almost relieved when his next move is to give her a small shrug and an almost bored sounding, “Just doing my job, ma'am.”

 

There it is again. The thing that fascinates her so much about soldiers in general and the Marines in particular. Their quiet “just doing my job” attitude when thanking them for something they didn’t have to do. Even when that involved saving someone’s life. Or hands. She always thought they’d be a bunch of bragging, loudmouth guys and girls and because they’re not she feels like she can’t thank them enough for what they’re doing. “You didn’t have to, so… thanks again.”

 

Well, that should close the conver… or maybe.. _not_. All of a sudden, there’s a look on the Sergeant’s face that tells her that he decided he needs to get something else off his chest, after all. “Actually, ma’am, I did have to. Otherwise, this city would probably have been down one Lieutenant able to defend it by making things go boom in a very short time. Personally, I’d rather have that one Lieutenant than not. To be honest, _someone_ should have done this the moment the LT… Lieutenant Cadman didn’t show up here after the Major’s surgery was finished.”

 

That’s… pretty much spot on. It’s making her feel bad. Or, okay, it’s making her admit that she’d felt pretty bad that she didn’t know how to approach Laura. Laura’s her friend and it’s not like they didn’t go through tough times together before, this being Atlantis and all. It’s just that her job is a very busy one and the mental health department’s got their hands full as well and Colonel Sheppard and Colonel Carter were pretty much busy with the audit the IOA sicced on them… And Laura can be just so damn _terrifying_ at times.

 

The thing is, none of that is a reason to let a friend down. A friend whose health she’s responsible for. She screwed up, bad enough that a Sergeant who’s trained to kill people instead of fixing them had to do her job. She leans against the door frame, crossing her arms in front of her chest and looking at Laura again... who seems to have fallen asleep. If she wouldn’t feel so god awful right now, she’d probably smile. It doesn’t help that Colbert keeps looking at her with that intense, indecipherable look, either. She shifts uncomfortably. “I know, I... That’s not really our standard performance and…”

 

“Shit happens, ma’am,” he interrupts her calmly, before she can launch into a full scale blame storm, looking at her as serious as he sounded. As if he _knew_ that things like those happened and that you shouldn’t dwell on them once they did. She wonders what kind of medical care he was used to when he thinks a screw up like that isn’t worth dwelling on.

 

She’s about to tell him that it _shouldn’t_ happen when he shortly looks at Laura and Lorne again and then gives her a crooked, small smile, adding, “Don’t worry, ma’am. You fixed her hands, after all.”

 

Yeah, well… kind of. She knows she shouldn’t say things like what she’s going to say now, as head of an entire department of everything but in the quiet hours in the infirmary and most of all when she sees friends suffering because she made a wrong decision, or, even worse, no decision at all, she feels like she doesn’t deserve the honor they bestowed on her when they made her Carson Beckett’s successor. “That doesn’t change anything about the fact that I screwed up, Sergeant.”

 

He regards her with a thoughtful look, his head very slightly cocked to the side. It feels as if he’s measuring her. Against what or whom she doesn’t know but the feeling of desperately wanting to measure _up_ is unnervingly strong. Just when she’s about to start actual squirming, he says with a hint of the kind of patience you usually show students or interns who just made a mistakes because they just don’t know better yet, “Ma’am… just a suggestion but how about you drop me a hint next time you're worried about one of the Marines or other military personnel?”

 

She’s not really firm in armed forces personnel informal hierarchies – to be honest, she isn't even all that well versed in the intricacies of their _formal_ hierarchy – but Laura keeps telling her over and over again and with great conviction that “the NCOs are the backbone of the Corps” and she’s starting to realize why.

 

She knows she should be pissed at him because he obviously just regarded her as an intern, not a full-fledged doctor but it _is_ more important that he just offered her his support in dealing with a part of the Atlantis population that still seems alien to her, despite treating a number of them nearly every day. She also knows he just offered to do something that should be more of Colonel Sheppard’s or Major Lorne’s responsibility but she knows enough about both men’s schedules and _other_ responsibilities that she knows she also has to rely on more informal ways of reaching the military Atlantis inhabitants. She nods, trying to sound grateful, “I will Sergeant. Thank you.”

 

He tips his forehead in a casual two finger salute and nods, saying, “You’re welcome, ma’am.” The weird thing about this is that he sounded… as if he meant it. Not just as a set phrase, he really _wants_ to do this for her, _help_ her, and his fellow soldiers, of course. Marines. Armed forces personnel. Whatever. She’s _never_ gonna get that right, no matter _how_ often Laura tries to correct her.

 

And anyway… she wants to answer him, tell him _something_ about how much she really, really appreciates his offer but he just calmly nods his good bye to her and then leaves the ICU in the sure step of someone just having had completed an assignment he’d been concerned with for a prolonged amount of time. Huh.   

 

Oh well. She looks at Laura again, takes a few steps back into the room and yeah… her suspicions are confirmed by the sight of Laura having curled up in the chair, her eyes closed and her head tipped slightly to the left. It’s one of the most inconvenient positions for falling asleep in she ever saw but she knows Laura.

 

She’s going to be a lot grumpier if she wakes her up now than waking up on her own later, cramped back and neck and all. So she decides the next best thing, that is fetching a blanket. It’s the least she can do for Laura right now. They can still do all the talking stuff later, and she’ll fix _more_ than just Laura’s hand. She owes that to Laura and Sergeant Colbert and somehow even to Major Lorne and she always pays her dues.


	3. Break the Door Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All Brad Colbert wanted was some quiet but that means nothing if Evan Lorne wants to talk to you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moah. That was a monster of a story to write. I don't even know why it took me so long to finish it. ~~I blame my job.~~ Anyway, it's done. I sincerly hope you like it. ~~Yes, writing this drained me enough that I can't come up with a more original A/N.~~

** Break the Door Down  **

_"You want me, well, come on and break the door down  
You want me, fucking come on and break the door down  
I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm ready..."_

_Radiohead, "Talk Show Host"_

  
It's not that he's hiding from the rest of the inhabitants of Atlantis. It's just that he needs time off now and then. Back on Earth he used to take his bike riding whenever he felt the need to get away from the confines of living on a base and that usually cleared his head enough that he was able to bear with enlisted bullshitting and a crappy chain of command for another couple days. He didn't try to smuggle his bike onto the  _Daedalus_ , though – probably would have worked, if he'd just tried hard enough, given some of the crap he'd seen in a couple of labs and common rooms – because it wouldn't have done much good anyway.  
  
So when he's fed up with hapless scientists, nerdy techies and the brainfuck happening in the enlisted quarters, he climbs up a tower in the East section, until he gets to a door labeled “Maintenance” and “Don’t open unless in a climbing harness” and “I _said_ don’t open the fucking thing unless you’re in a climbing harness with your ass chained to the hook left of you, dammit!” and every time he gets there, he can’t help rolling his eyes. He’s pretty sure the one who labeled it did some time in the Corps.  
  
Anyway, usually, he opens the door – _usually_ without a climbing harness except when it’s really stormy because he’s a Sergeant, not an idiot – and steps out onto a comfortably large ledge, kind of like an alcove. The only slightly inconvenient thing about it is the fact that there’s no railing but as the men in First Recon would have put it, “Railings are for losers.”  
  
So yeah, that’s how it usually goes. That’s how it was supposed to go right now. Except that when he was about to convince the city that he has permission to open the goddamn door with a couple tricks he picked up from Maintenance on several mandatory cross training sessions, Major Lorne appeared in the corridor, laden with a couple of things, one of them looking suspiciously like canvas. And spotted him. With a frown. That’s not… “Let me guess, Sergeant. It’s not what it looks like?”  
  
Well. “I’d answer your question, sir, if I knew what it looked like.” Even though he’s been here for a couple of months, Lorne’s reaction to that kind of thing still amazes him. Maybe that’s why he just can’t stop trying to push him.  
  
Currently, it’s not working but that was to be expected. Instead of the usual assfuckery that would have gone down, Lorne looks close to rolling his eyes and answers, “I’d never have pegged you as the Queen of the Land called Passive-Aggressiva.” What? “Grey’s Anatomy reference, Sergeant. Don’t ask.” He… won’t. He’s… is he supposed to say something to that? Ray probably would have but then again… “Anyway, I’m supposed to think you didn’t just want to open a door saying “don’t open this”, ain’t I?”  
  
There’s no getting past that guy. For all the casual irony and the occasional pop culture references, practically nothing sneaks past Lorne. Which is why he’s pretty sure the Major wasn’t guessing. He was merely looking for confirmation of what he already knew or at least suspected for a while.  
  
He’s actually tempted to make a gesture of defeat but Lorne and he would both know it’s bullshit. It’s not like he didn’t suspect Lorne knew or at least suspected. He just kind of expected to be called on it earlier. He tries irony instead. “I’d be insulting your intelligence if I’d say yes, wouldn’t I, sir?”  
  
It doesn't really surprise him that Lorne's answer is a grin. He had a couple of months to get used to the fact that Atlantis might have two or three officers of the familiar fuckwit variety he knew from several years in the Corps but that the majority is just a little... different. Lorne’s no exception. “Close one, Sergeant.”  
  
Okay, so… what now? Probably wrapping his head around the fact that his lookout isn’t so secret anymore would be a good idea, and he needs to scout for a new one, as well. First of all, though, he needs to get out of this conversation with grace. Maybe directing the conversation away from him could work. He _has_ seen working it between Lorne and Cadman.  
  
He nods towards the objects Major Lorne had been carrying around before he’d leaned the biggest two – a piece of canvas and a folded easel – against a nearby wall. He damn well hopes that had nothing to do with Lorne not being fully back on par two weeks after being released from the infirmary. “Painting, sir?”  
  
The Major doesn’t seem to miss a beat, not even raises an eyebrow. Only maybe looks a little exasperated. “Yes, Sergeant, painting.” It does strike him as odd a little. No-nonsense Major Lorne dallying around with brushes and paint… not what he’d expected as a pastime. “Don’t look at me like that.” He’s pretty sure Lorne’s bullshitting him about the look. Otherwise, he’d have lost his special Iceman powers. Ray would be dearly disappointed. “And do me a favor and accompany me.”  
  
Okay, _that_ came unexpected. And it’s _not_ what he planned to do today. Maybe Lorne wasn’t serious, despite all evidence speaking against it. “Need someone to help you carry your supplies, sir?”  
  
It wasn’t meant to needle Lorne and he’s pretty sure his tone conveyed that. So he’s pretty sure he has no idea where the frown on Lorne’s face just came from. “No, I need someone to answer me a few questions about one of the Marines in the contingent, Sergeant.”  
  
What the… What the _fucking_ fuck is this about? He’s got an idea but he’d be damned if he gave up anything on that to Lorne, decent officer or not. “Excuse me, sir?”  
  
“Just tag along, will you, Colbert?” Clearly, that was an order.  
  
Nothing left to say, except, “Yes, sir,” obviously.  
  
Lorne simply nods and takes up his supplies again, seeming to make a point of not asking for help. It’s admirable, if a little stupid. His offer for help had been genuine. Would also be stupid to repeat it, though, so he just follows Lorne’s purposeful steps, telling him it’s not the first time Lorne’s in this part of the city. And here he’d been wondering how Lorne knew about the alcove.  
  
Despite a pretty fast walk, Lorne does take his time putting up the easel and setting up the rest when they reach the balcony Lorne intended to be his view point and he wonders if it’s some more bullshitting on Lorne’s part or if the Major needs the time to prepare himself for whatever he’s going to ask him.  
  
The good thing about this is that he doesn’t really need to talk to Lorne to keep occupied. It’s interesting enough to see Lorne set up everything, as meticulous as he usually is on duty but with a kind of quiet pleasant anticipation he hasn’t seen on the Major ever before, not even when he got Cadman something big to blow up and hasn’t told her yet.  
  
When Lorne’s done, he takes a moment to look at the canvas. All he can see are smudges of blue, grey and a very pale yellow but discretion keeps him from looking too closely. Still silent, Lorne starts to paint, keeping it up for at least ten minutes. Other people probably would get itchy. He just gets annoyed, and he’s pretty sure now that Lorne is doing all of this on fucking purpose. He’d really love to know why.  
  
Thankfully, after five more minutes, Lorne does him the favor of speaking to him again. “So,” he says after a few carefully easy strokes of his brush against the canvas, “Dr. Keller said you escorted Lieutenant Cadman to the infirmary when I was out of commission seventeen days ago.”  
  
He did. He just thought that was all water under the bridge now. Or at least he hoped it wouldn’t be an issue Lorne might be asking him about. He doesn’t need Lorne to explain to him why he’s asking – after all, Lieutenant Cadman’s attempts at making them all believe she’s okay now that Major Lorne is back in the game are painfully easy to see through – but he’d still been hoping he wouldn’t. Because it puts him a fucking precarious position and because it’s fucking difficult not to hate him for doing it. “I did, sir,” he says carefully.  
  
Lorne momentarily pauses his painting to look directly at him, kind of expectantly. What, did he really expect he’d volunteer any potentially sensitive information about one of Lorne’s team members? He never thought Lorne of all people would have to resort to going behind anyone’s back. He just stares back, daring Lorne to order him to reveal anything of the scarce information he might have on Cadman and her not exactly standard behavior.  
  
After a moment, Lorne eventually gets back to painting but it doesn’t really feel as if he just won a staring match. Rather like Lorne felt it was silly to continue and that he didn’t need to take up with this kind of crap. “Sergeant,” he says continuing to work on his painting and continues in a rather conversationalist tone, “just to make it clear: you’re not here for interrogation. I don’t want you to compromise the trust of a fellow Marine. I’m asking for your help in dealing with certain issues of one of your own.”  
  
He’s not sure if he heard that right. What could he _possibly_ say that  _wouldn’t_  compromise Cadman and her continued out of character behavior such as short-temperedness, heightened irritability, a tendency to hole herself up in the workout room instead of taking part in informal Corps contingent functions and a general edginess that hadn’t been there before Lorne got himself shot up?  
  
He decides to play ignorant. Maybe that’ll help. "I'm... not sure if I understand you correctly, sir. Who are you referring to?"  
  
He's losing his edge, apparently. There's no other explanation for the look that Lorne throws him from half behind his canvas. It says very clearly "The hell you don't know who I'm talking about, Sergeant." His tone doesn't sound like he believes the ignorance act, either, when he says, "Then I'll just be blunt with you. I'm talking about Lieutenant Cadman and the rather uncharacteristic way she's been behaving since before I even woke up."  
  
There goes his way out of this. He's tempted to start hating Lorne for the way he seems to know what's going on in the entire contingent. Or he would if that weren't what he usually appreciates about an officer. There is, however, still his conviction that he's not the right person to talk to about this. “I don’t think I’d be a big help in this matter, sir.”  
  
Lorne is starting to like the smallest bit exasperated now. Somehow, there's an enormous amount of satisfaction in that. “Sergeant, if I didn’t know you’d be up to the task, I wouldn’t have asked you.”  
  
Well. Apparently, they have a problem. And that problem is that Lorne  _just doesn't get it_. He barely refrains from rolling his eyes at a field grade officer and tries to keep his tone matter-of-fact instead of majorly pissed off, when he says, “You know, sir, the last officer who asked for my advice and actually listened to me was a First Lieutenant, practically fresh out of Recon training, in 2003 when we invaded Iraq. Pardon me if I'm a little put off by a Major, Air Force, no less, asking me for my opinion on just about anything, let alone a fellow Marine and an officer."  
  
That should have been clear. Nate would have understood him. Hell, even Encino Man and Captain America would have backed the fuck off by now. They would  _not_  have looked vaguely amused. And none of them would have asked, "Is this about the whole "the Air Force shoots Marines" thing?"  
  
Okay. That was not what he expected. Actually, he never expected anyone to comment on that ever. Not even Rolling Stone did it when he uttered it within his hearing range. Feigning ignorance is probably futile now but he's not above wondering how the hell ever Lorne came up with this. His only concession to his slight bewilderment is raising his eyebrow. "Sir?"  
  
The Major grins an open, friendly grin he still finds hard to get used to from a field grade. "Surprised us flyboys know about your misgivings about our ability to hit a target?"  
  
It's clear Lorne is enjoying this. Maybe... this is his way out of about being interrogated about Cadman and why she thinks punching bags are her new friends. "Just... curious, sir."  
  
Lorne seems to be assessing him now, as if he's wondering  _what_  he's curious about. Then he seems to have decided to settle with, "I wasn't in Iraq in 2003, if that's what you're worried about."  
  
He wasn't so much as worried, more like intrigued by how closely the Major can pinpoint the origin of his sentiment against A10 pilots. It's not like Iraq was the only one of his deployments involving A10s and Marines and a questionable - so as not to say worst fucking ever - aim. "How do you..."  
  
"A couple rotsy friends were." Huh, he always thought Lorne was Academy, not ROTC. "As A10 pilots."  
  
So. That's just creepy. Superstitious young Marines would probably think Lorne made a pact with the devil, and that probably explains the awe the young enlisted men – Marines, Air Force, foreign Armed Forces – regard Lorne with. For him, though... “I’m fucked three ways from Sunday, ain't I?" he drawls, half joking.  
  
Another grin, just as easy as the last one. “No, I was just hoping I’d get to see the Iceman squirm.” Who would have thought that Lorne of all people wouldn’t be above trying to fuck with the Iceman. “And your attempt at stalling didn't work.” Ah, right. “I still need to know what happened to Lieutenant Cadman’s hands. At least that."  
  
He decides not to dwell on that last bit. Instead he goes for a different bait. “Why are you asking me that, sir?”  
  
Still painting, Lorne answers him in a casual tone that doesn’t betray anything besides a mild interest, at least for those not listening closely, “Because you seemed to have been the only one brave enough to approach her when I was a little… incapacitated.”  
  
Bravery. The one thing approaching Lieutenant Cadman in the workout room had had nothing to with. Rather irritation at first and then the same kind of professional worry that still makes him first yell at his men and then ask them if they are okay without missing a beat. He considers carefully how much he can tell Major Lorne about his encounter with Lieutenant Cadman in the workout room. In the end, he decides for, “LT got in an argument with a punching bag, sir.”  
  
For some reason, that makes Lorne stop painting and look at him with an eyebrow raised. “Bad enough that she needed medical attention?”  
  
From the way Lorne asked that, it’s pretty clear that he already knows the answer. That‘s what makes it so weird that he halted like that. “Yes, sir.”  
  
Lorne makes a face and stares at the canvas but somehow he thinks Lorne doesn’t see what’s on there. “Well, fuck _me_.” Yeah, maybe that would help. _Cadman_ , that is. It would help Cadman if she… No. He shuts his inner Ray up when Major Lorne blinks and is back to his semi-casual bearing. “Who won the argument?”  
  
Good question. He considers it. “I think the LT did, sir.” It’s true, actually. He’d gone back to the workout room after spooking Keller and had had a go himself at the punching bag. That had felt distinctly different from usual. Whatever the fuck Cadman had done to it, it had had a lasting effect. Which brings him back to the question he had tried not to mull over since it all started.  “Sir?”  
  
This time, Lorne sounds just a _little_ irritated. “What?”  
  
On the right path, obviously. “What happened on that mission?”  
  
For a moment, it looks as if Lorne would tell him – as if Lorne _wants_ to tell him, or just _anyone_ – and he wonders why he just doesn’t do it, for fuck’s sake. He doesn’t judge. Not when someone doesn’t deserve it, anyway. “If Lieutenant Cadman didn’t tell you, I’m not at liberty to tell you, either.”  
  
As if Cadman would tell anyone what fucked her up like that. Also, much more important, as if he’d ask her. “Lieutenant Cadman didn’t tell anyone anything, sir.”  
  
He half expects Lorne to give up now or show _something_ of the frustration that must be somewhere beneath that semi-casual, professionally friendly surface. Otherwise Lorne wouldn’t have dragged him out here in the first place. “That’s the whole problem, isn’t it?”  
  
“Exactly, sir.” And here everyone calls Air Force officers slow on the uptake. Really, that was  quite a big intellectual feat. He finds it hard not to smirk.  
  
He doesn’t have to, anyway, because Lorne is doing enough of it. Although it looks kind of pained, too. “Anyway… Thanks for saving the punching bag’s ass, Sergeant.”  
  
Just for once, he thinks, he wishes Lorne would use some plain speaking. And if not with him, then at least with someone else. It’s about fucking time he tells him so, he decides.  “Anytime, sir. It would be more sustainable if she could talk to someone about it, though, sir. Preferably her commanding officer.”  
  
If Lorne kicked him off the balcony, it wouldn’t surprise him. Much. Officers have tried to kick Sergeants off all kinds of places for lesser things. But he still didn‘t expect Lorne‘s quiet admission of, “Point taken, Sergeant,” to be his only answer.  
  
Something in that sounds almost like Cadman telling him she didn’t want to see Lorne in the infirmary. Probably a good time to change the topic. Thank God there’s something that actually interests him. “May I have a look, sir?”  
  
Obviously a little surprised by a Sergeant’s interest in his art, Lorne narrows his eyes for a moment, then shrugs and stands a little aside. “Sure.”  
  
He walks over to stand next to the Major, bending his head slightly to the side. Lorne’s style is interesting. Expressive and distinct, focusing more on the mood, atmosphere and coloring than on details. Which is why the smudge of bright red just this side of orange in the lower left quarter of the painting, on a balcony just like the one they’re staying on, catches his attention. It could be anything from a piece of fabric to a foreign bird but something in his head wires him to hair. He decides to ignore it the moment that thought registered.  
  
Instead he goes for, “Sir? What are you going to do about Lieutenant Cadman?”  
  
“Not putting any pressure on her, for starters.” Lorne is still looking at his painting, kind of contemplative. He’s pretty sure colors and composition aren’t what’s on the Major’s mind right now.  
  
He’s also sure that what Lorne just said doesn’t make any sense. At all. “With all due respect, sir, that’s a fu… that’s not a recommendable course of action.”  
  
The Major’s face tells him pretty clearly that there’s no use trying to veil his contempt at this superior’s clearly wrong idea of dealing with a subordinate. “Yes, Sergeant, it is, at least if it involves pressure from _me_.”  
  
That makes even less sense. Who else should put pressure on a subordinate if not her immediate superior officer? “I’m not sure I can follow you, sir.”  
  
That earns him one of Lorne’s famous “Are you really trying to fuck with me?” looks that make even forty-year-old Chief Master Sergeants reconsider their approach to the truth about an incident off-world. “I’m pretty sure you can.” No really, he can’t. He just doesn’t get… “And if you're wondering about the relationship Lieutenant Cadman and I have aside from our professional one… don’t. It’s not the point here.”  
  
Now that is interesting. Both Lorne and Cadman trying to tell him with all vehemence possible that there is no relationship makes him a fuckload more suspicious than just snorting would have. The officers doeth protest too much. He tries to test his luck a little. “I wasn’t aware there was a relationship, sir. Other than your professional one, I mean.”  
  
If someone had asked him how he expected Lorne to answer this, he certainly wouldn’t have said, “Don’t, Sergeant.” Most of all not with that weird kind of deathly calm and just a little bit of threatening undertone he just did.  
  
Something in that makes him reconsider trying to test his luck against Lorne. Above all, that would make him look like a stupid fucking crackbrain. Nicely put. “Acknowledged, sir.”  
  
Lorne nods, then looks a little… resigned. Weary, even. Huh. “Just keep an eye on her, Sergeant.” Oh really? Why _him_? “If I remember it correctly, you’re very proficient in handling company grade officers with all kinds of issues. Use that.” That was a fucking low blow. Using his – professional – relationship with Nate against him, that is. As if getting one wet behind the ears Lieutenant through an invasion would make him the Company Grade Officer Whisperer.  
  
Also, why can’t Lorne do the keeping an eye on her thing himself? Probably, a voice sounding suspiciously like Ray says in the back of his mind, because he’s way in over his head. _Head over heels_ , even. Goddammit, he thinks, if they’d just get their fucking _shit_ together. “And then what, sir?”  
  
A smirk now, looking a little rueful. Oh great. Lorne knows exactly what he’s asking of him. “We’ll see, Sergeant.”  
  
We’ll see, his ass. At this rate, Lorne and Cadman will be mooning over each other into all eternity. He just wishes he’d keep remembering that this is none of his fucking business. “Yes, sir.”  
  
At that, Lorne takes up his painting and nods at him, looking exactly as if he’d be sitting behind his desk and ending a strictly official conversation. “That would be all, Sergeant.”  
  
Thank _God_ , he thinks. It was all getting far too close to AOs he didn’t want want to caught dead in. How Lorne ever could rope him into this eludes him. He really has to work on his Iceman skills, it seems. “Yes, sir.”  
  
“And Sergeant?” _What_ , he wants to bellow at Lorne, feeling his actually pretty long fuse starting to get shorter. “Go talk to Sergeant Taveras. He’s in charge of the climbing equipment.”  
  
Of course Lorne would say that. He wouldn’t be worth the pay for his pay grade if he didn’t. It’s still kind of annoying. “I really don’t…”  
  
“Sergeant Taveras and the climbing equipment, Sergeant.” That was clear.  
  
And some orders, you just don’t disobey. Not from guys like Lorne. “Will do, sir.”  
  
With that, he’s finally free to take his leave and for a short moment, he considers going back to his ledge right away but it’s visible from the balcony where Lorne is still painting. Not even Lorne is laid back enough to let the disobedience of a very clear order slip by.  
  
As much as he doesn’t like it, all of this points into the same direction. He really needs to go looking for a new sanctuary. Somewhere not even Lorne will put up his easel and drag him into unwanted and uncomfortable conversations. For now, though, a trip to the workout room feels to be in order. If Lieutenant Cadman happens to be there, so be it. That wouldn’t mean he’d been _looking out_ for her. That’s Lorne’s job and next chance he gets, he’s gonna tell him so. Or possibly her. Either way, he’ll get them both off his back. That’s definitely an end that’ll justify the means.


	4. Wishing She Was Somewhere Else Instead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _So here she is. About to knock on her superior’s office door to ask him to transfer her to another posting._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, last chapter. I do have a couple scenes in my head but I'm not sure if they're enough to be written. If anyone's interested, please tell me?
> 
> Okay, how the effing HELL can I make AO3 accept my formatting? I tried everything from coding to the not-working rich text formatting and... WHAT THE HELL?

** Wishing She Was Somewhere Else Instead ** _“One of us is lying in a lonely bed staring at the ceiling wishing she was somewhere else instead.” ABBA, “One of Us”_

So here she is. About to knock on her superior’s office door to ask him to transfer her to another posting. It has taken her four weeks to make that one last final step. Four weeks that nearly cost her her sanity, what with pretending everything was back to normal with her CO and her. It was, she has to give herself that, surprising how well it worked on everyone, even Sheppard.

Okay, everyone except Colbert but she’s pretty sure he’s actually some alien endowed with at least a dozen seventh senses, anyway. There’s no way he could have found exactly the right moment to kick her ass practically straight to Major Lorne’s office by accident. It had to have been some weird sense of precognition or maybe the superhuman skill to locate every one of them with his goddamn head or some other weird shit going on.

Either way, he managed to make it clear to her that she might be fooling everyone else with her “There’s nothing to see, move along, move along” attitude but not him. Just a casual conversation in the armory, something about why the P90 was chosen ultimately for the Atlantis expedition instead of any of the US Armed Forces standard rifles or something. And then he’d remarked that if he were so head over heels for his commanding officer as one of the NCOs from the small Swedish Army contingent was for his American team leader, he’d have made sure to be as far away from her chain of command as he could, regardless of what she felt.

It had been an odd remark from him and that was what had kind of hit her over the head. He hadn’t been talking about Ole Hammesvar and Kate Vandermere. Well, okay, he had because honestly, she so damn much agrees it’s not even funny anymore. But he’d also been talking about her and Major Lorne, she’s sure of that. The pointed look that asked her “Are you an officer or are you a person with a brain?” had been a dead giveaway, too.

So she’s here now to get as far away from Evan Lorne’s chain of command as she can. Taking a deep breath, she raises her hand, for about the 100th time and this time it actually hits the door. One, two… “Come in.” She realizes she just held her breath and she takes care he doesn’t see or hear her exhaling the moment the door opens.

As she enters his office, she feels her palms going a little clammy and it takes all her willpower not to rub them dry on her pants. She feels annoyance creeping up as well. Annoyance at herself for being nervous about a simple transfer request and also annoyance at herself for being so damn attracted to her fucking CO.

“What can I do for you… Lieutenant?” She blinks. Why’d he hesitate? And since when is he calling her by her rank again, even when it’s just them?

Oh, right, ever since she visited him a few hours after he woke up and they allowed her back in the infirmary after making her sleep… she takes a mental deep breath and she remembers the conversation she and Colbert had in the work-out room after Lorne had been shot up. She’d asked Colbert if it matters if she’s sleeping with her CO and she never answered him when he said it didn’t. But the truth is, it does. It matters because she isn’t sleeping with him and felt like someone ripped her heart out when she saw him collapse in a hail of bullets. She swallows. “I’d like to request reassignment, sir.”

That seemed to have taken him by surprise and she’s almost sure that for a moment, alarm had crossed his face. Then he just frowns at her and it just can’t be sane how much she wants to smooth those creases away. “To a different team? Laura, you don’t…”

Oh right, now she’s Laura again. Can’t he just decide what he wants? But at least the little leap of joy she felt deep inside at hearing his voice call her by her first name again just the right amount of resolve the be able to say what she needs to say, “To a different base, sir.”

There’s the attempt at understanding on his face, at first. “I… see.” And then it isn’t. It’s rather… irritation. “No, actually, I don’t. What the hell is going on here?”

Did he really just ask that? Was Colbert really the only one she couldn’t fool about that unfortunate attraction to her CO she just can’t get rid of? Didn’t he notice that she avoided him if it wasn’t absolutely necessary to communicate with him? Could she really trick people into thinking she wasn’t sleep deprived from tossing and turning and the occasional nightmare with just a bit of make-up? She’s just so tired of it. “Isn’t it kind of obvious?”

“No, it’s not,” he starts, even a little aggravated and all she can think of is God, you’re hot when you’re angry. That’s nothing compared to how weird he sounds when he says, “Or… is it me?” though. In a way it is, she thinks and then mentally adds, screw this, it’s about him all the fucking way. “Laura, don’t worry, I won’t throw you out of the team for a weapon’s malfunction that wasn’t your fault.”

What… oh, right. That. Yeah. That had been… stupid. It had been stupid and it nearly cost his life and she hates the way thinking of his shot up body and the blood slowly seeping into the desert sand. She swallows before she answers, “It’s not the weapon’s malfunction, sir. Or at least… not all of it.” Because, the thing is, that is also weighing her down, from a professional angle. She tries to tell herself it wasn’t her fault and she chewed out the responsible Corporal from the armory enough that he was practically crawling back to his quarters afterwards but it stands to reason that she’s the armory CO’s backup and she should have…

“What else is it?” Right. Concentrate on the task at hand. She can do that. “Seriously, you gotta help me out here because I’m drawing a blank.”

She wonders if he really is. Drawing a blank, that is. The still wary look on his face and the hint of having noticed something was… off tell her differently and for some reason, a fuse in her head just… cracked. She makes a fist with her right hand, pressing the fingers together in a ball so tight it would hurt to uncurl it right now and takes a short look out of his window, catching sun and ocean and realizing that she’ll have to leave all of this behind, not just him but there’s the irresistible urge in her to just say it.

She forces herself to turn back to him, look him straight into the eyes when she spills the beans. “When you went down, sir, I was unable to function properly.” So far, her voice is steady and even professional. And it’s all gone out the window when she relives the moment she plans to tell him about. “It was just a moment and I got it all under control but… I keep seeing it. I keep seeing how you went down and that… I don’t… I don’t ever want to see that again.” There, she said it. She said it and now she can’t even bear looking him in the eye to see the disappointment and disapproval that’s bound to be staring back at her. “I think I need to… could you please excuse me, sir? I need to write my request and I… really need to go.”

The most embarrassing thing is how fast she just rambled and how fast she bounds for the door, just to get out and away from him and the mess she made, just because she couldn’t keep her damn mouth shut and…

“When I went down, Laura, the only thing I kept thinking was how glad I was I didn’t let you dial out.” She doesn’t dare turning around. The softness of his voice scares her. The softness and the quiet admission that carries things she forbade herself dream about. “I don’t remember much but I remember that. It even was the first thing that came back to me when I woke up and they told me they’d just forced you to take a couple of hours of sleep in your quarters.”

It just takes her a moment to remember how they came to know each other, how he helped her to get over Carson’s death, how he accepted her into his team after a year of making her work hard and even harder for it, how she realized slowly that a day without him was a day wasted, how she simply stopped coherent thought in that one moment a few weeks ago that nearly meant every day of her life would be without him… “Laura? Look at me, please?”

She does. Over her shoulder, not sure what she’s going to see and she’s rewarded with the cutest shy and slightly embarrassed smile she ever saw and never would have expected from a guy like Major Evan Lorne. That kind of seals it and she turns around fully, offering him an encouraging smile in return when he takes slow steps toward her, slightly extending his hand to her. For a moment, she idly wonders what Colbert is going to say to this before abandoning any thoughts about anyone outside this office and takes a step forward herself, a smile growing brighter every second.


	5. Hang On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been three months since Laura Cadman came clear to her CO and almost three since she left for Earth on the Daedalus. Let's see how Brad Colbert among other people welcomes her back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh, so _Wishing She Was Somewhere Else Instead_ wasn't the last chapter, after all. Basically, this chapter and the next are ancient_leah's fault because she was all "Wait, _this_ is where it ends?" after _Wishing She Was_ and since I owe a couple really good stories to her and our bouncing back and forth plot bunnies ~~until they're so sick they can't even move anymore~~ I thought "What the hell? Let's give the girl a story. Or maybe two." and here they are. Or rather, the first. Have... fun?

** Hang On **

 

_“When your day is long and the night  
The night is yours alone  
When you're sure you've had enough of this life, well hang on  
Don't let yourself go  
Everybody cries and everybody hurts sometimes.”_

_REM, “Everybody Hurts”_

 

Something’s up. Something’s messed up and fishy and pretty much fucked up. From the way Lorne gestures and rubs his hand over his face and from Sheppard’s even more than usually spiky hair, it looks like something really went FUBAR. Somehow he wishes they’d dim the office’s glass walls because what’s going on looks so… _personal_.

 

“It’s the _Daedalus_ , Sergeant.” Oh good _God_ , fucking alien sneaking up on him. _Again_. And _what’s_ the _Daedalus_? “Colonel Sheppard and Major Lorne’s… issue. As you might have noticed that the _Daedalus_ is overdue.”

 

That, yes. Teyla Emmagan is right, the ship should have been here two hours ago. He just hadn’t thought it to be alarming, is all. “Of course I did, ma’am. Just thought it’s some malfunction or other. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

 

The look on Emmagan’s face tells him she wonders whether he somehow was replaced by an alternative version of himself. _What_ is this city’s crew’s issue with how much he talks or doesn’t? He gives her credit for it being such a short and nearly unnoticeable look. Best damn poker face in the entire city, that one. “I agree, Sergeant.” But if it were, Sheppard and Lorne wouldn’t look so… worried.

 

On the other side of the office’s glass walls, Sheppard and Lorne have resorted to sitting down, _trying_ to look relaxing, probably for the control room’s benefit and it looks very much like the officer bullshit he hadn’t ever seen from them before. _Something_ … “Laura Cadman is onboard the _Daedalus_.”

 

His first impulse is to tell her that he knows that and wonders what the remark was all about when he remembers that Cadman and Emmagan seem to share a friendship of some sorts. Which is probably why there was a barely noticeable anxious undertone to her voice. Amazing. It’s not the first time he thinks she could maybe sometimes give _him_ a lesson in _frosty_.

 

There’s another thing. His new team is onboard that ship and Cadman’s supposed to be his new team leader as soon as she’s back, officially in the _Daedalus_ ’ chain of command then. It was a trick, to ensure there wouldn’t be any repercussions for… oh, for Heaven’s sake he’s not a fucking Southern belle in a stupid ballroom. It was a trick to make it possible for her and Lorne to sleep with each other and not withstanding what he thinks about this whole fraternization thing, he’s got to give them that it’s a pretty neat fucking little trick if nothing else.

 

He makes a face, looking at Lorne again listening to Sheppard ranting with big gestures, while Lorne’s sunken in his chair, one leg across the other and he isn’t really sure if he actually hears what Sheppard is telling him. “Explains a couple things, ma’am.”

 

Emmagan just nods sagely and she’s probably the first and only person he ever encountered who can pull it off without it looking tacky. “So it does.” Then there’s just the back hum of  the control room, strangely… _normal_ , considering their supply ship is overdue and the officers in charge are looking they’re about to having a mental breakdown. They… “John made people believe that he is in a scheduling meeting with Major Lorne. He did not want to raise any suspicions.”

 

So… that explains why everyone is so fucking calm here. And why Sheppard and Lorne don’t bother with the shutters drawn. Actually, their idea was kind of genius. As long as people can see them, they won’t suspect something’s wrong. Suddenly… everything makes a whole lotta fucking sense. Sheppard and Lorne didn’t suddenly mutate into the kind of idiots he’d had to deal with in Iraq and a couple other deployments that went FUBAR. They’re still their freakishly un-Air Force while being as Air Force as they can selves. Except, “Excuse my asking, ma’am but… is  there any particular reason Colonel Sheppard and Major Lorne want to keep this whole thing secret?”

 

Emmagan… just smiles at him, enigmatic and just a little bit mocking. Yeah. Right. Fell right into her well-marked little trap. At least he’s able to admit that it had nothing to do with the fact that she’s female or that she’s _fucking hot and female_. He’s not ready to admit that it has everything to do with him starting to get worried either, though.

 

It’s still a little embarrassing when he can see her deciding to go easy on the sergeant and benevolently whisper, “The _Daedalus_ is on a… classified mission right now and it seems as if they encountered… hostiles.” Uh-huh. Well, that doesn’t sound… “All I know is, they’re currently fighting intruders and…” Wait, so _that_ ’s her secret. She’s listening in on the CO and his XO, which is why she’s sometimes cocking her head to the side, very, very lightly. “And that is everything I can tell you at the moment, Sergeant. I am sorry.”

 

The funny thing is: it’s a lot more than she _should_ have told him and she knows it. “No need to be, ma’am. Thank you for your efforts.” She inclines her head to him, hopefully registering that he won’t mess this up and alert the entire control room or something. All he wants is to be kept in the loop because this _is_ about his team, even when he knows only one of the three new members. And if there’s one thing the Iceman doesn’t do, it’s letting his team down.

 

So that’s what he does. He stays in the control room, in the back, unobtrusively, right next to Teyla Emmagan and if he’d needed any more encouragement, it would have been Lorne’s look, a few minutes after thanking Emmagan, directed at him, and a small nod… acknowledging his presence and it probably just earned him points with his boss that he’s interested Cadman’s in whereabouts himself.

 

In the end, it takes another two hours of – figuratively because this is Pegasus and thinks like that _are_ possible to happen literally – merging himself with the wall in his back and listening to Emmagan whispering new developments and watching both Lorne and Sheppard live through every one of them as if they were _right there_ fighting of alien intruders until there’s suddenly a “It’s the _Daedalus_ , sir. They’re hailing us. And… they said they’re too damaged to land and that they need medical assistance. ASAP,” from a flustered Airman at the controls.

 

Suddenly, there’s a rush of activity and he’s glad about that because in a flurry it’s even easier for him to mask relief by just nodding at Emmagan and stepping forward to watch the enfolding nearly scary efficiency of the Atlantis staff. Ever after over a year, it still astounds him how fast Keller and her trauma teams react and how effortlessly Sheppard and Lorne direct the control room staff, the influx of heavily wounded personnel being beamed down with what looks like engineering and medical staff being beamed back up until it starts to slow down, with the walking wounded. And Laura Cadman, now a Captain as he heard it through the grapevine.

 

There’s a small intake of breath from Emmagan next to him and he nearly did so himself. She looks… banged up would be an understatement. Seriously fucked over, more like. Without hesitation, he steps up to greet her. “Welcome back, ma’am.”

 

She just nods, and up close he can see weariness and exhaustion in her face beneath a coating of blood and grime. That, and the iron will to remain upright. Good. He would have hated for her to faint right in front of him… and Major Lorne whom she seems to be pointedly ignoring. That’s… weird. “Ma’am…”

 

He gets interrupted by another beam and suddenly, there are two women standing next to Cadman, one on either side. The right one is looking equally roughed up as Cadman, her uniform marking her down as another Marine and featuring a big gaping burn hole in her right arm sleeve. The skin beneath it is furiously red and he’s pretty sure he also saw blisters. That just can’t be good. The woman on her left side looks like a civilian and slightly less messed up but equally tired.

 

Cadman raises her hand to wipe blood that’s trickling down from a cut in her right eyebrow from her eye. “Sergeant Colbert, meet your new team mates, Sergeant Dusty Mehra, USMC” she gestures to her right and the Marine – _Sergeant_ – nods at him with a… defiant gleam in her eyes, “and Dr. Alison Porter, physicist” she gestures to her right and the doctor nods at him and oddly enough he realizes that there’s an empty Beretta holster around her right thigh. That’s… interesting. “Dusty, Alison, this is Sergeant Brad Colbert, USMC. He’ll be completing the team as soon as we… well, you know.”

 

As he gazes at the trio in front of him he realizes that… all his new team members are female. He’ll be going on missions with _women_. And a _civilian_. Ray would have a field day… a field _year_ if he knew. So he sure as hell is gonna take his time with telling Ray that.

 

Thankfully, the task at _hand_ is taken out of his when Cadman spares him the awkwardness of having to decide if this is a good moment to offer two fellow Marines his assistance or not in getting their gear to their rooms – or their asses to the fucking infirmary – or not when she says, “Sergeant… I think Dr. Porter could use a hand in getting her equipment to her quarters.”

 

He nods, “Yes, ma’am,” walking over to the duffle next to the doc and grabbing it, not allowing her to go for the usual “No, it’s okay, I can do that myself and _I dare you to disagree_ , you relict from the Stone Ages” he so often gets from female Atlantis personnel. After making sure everyone has what she needs with her, he sets off for the room Cadman named her as the doc’s quarters, the rest of the team in tow.

 

When he passes Emmagan on his way out of the control room, he catches her giving him an appreciative look and then… sharing a little smile with Cadman. What makes him stop for a moment is that he realizes _Lorne_ is doing his best to ignore Cadman as well. But then again… that’s none of his fucking business and nothing he needs to worry about unless it has influences on Cadman’s performance as his team leader.

 

 _Right now_ , her performance – and that of the rest of his team mates – is much more in danger to fail from sheer exhaustion and pain so he makes a mental note to steer them away from Dr. Porter’s quarters to the infirmary. Being checked over can’t hurt and he’ll take their tough Marine bullshit over having been the one responsible for them failing to get combat ready again any day. He _always_ takes care of his team and this one won’t be an exception. As easy as that.


	6. From The Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura Cadman finally gets a proper welcome back from her now ex team leader. Or at least that's what intended to get on her way back from the infirmary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops. Musta forgotten posting this here when I posted it to LJ. Okay, so much, much belatedly... the AO3 version of the conclusion.

**From the Heart **

_“So close, no matter how far_  
Couldn't be much more from the heart  
Forever trusting who we are  
and nothing else matters.”

_Metallica, “Nothing Else Matters”_

She’s not quite sure if she should punish or reward Colbert for what he did. But then again, she should have expected it. Colbert’s the embodiment of United States Marine Corps spirit and ideals… and a damn mother hen. No, actually a mother hen could learn a thing or two from a Sergeant in the Corps. How to be so omnipresent that it’s futile to even try to escape being herded to the infirmary, for example.  
  
She can’t quite believe that she let a Sergeant determine that she and the rest of the team needed medical attention badly enough to be made getting on the infirmary staff’s nerves. They’d had enough to do with the badly wounded people from Section 4D where the intruders had entered the _Daedalus_ by force. Lots of it, actually. They honestly hadn’t needed another three people who could actually _walk_ – badly, in her case but still possible – to add to their troubles.  
  
Okay, so Jennifer had had a different stance on that – how could she even find the spare time to look her and Mehra and Porter over personally? – but really. Just a few bruises and cuts – okay, and a burn in Mehra’s case – a broken finger, a ruptured muscle fiber… could have been worse. Nothing a bandage, a cast and some Demerol couldn’t fix. It _certainly_ hadn’t warranted Colbert shooing them to the infirmary first and then abandoning them to have their belongings sent to their respective quarters.

But, alright, that had been a nice touch. At least… at least now she doesn’t have to make that trip herself. It’ll be the last time he ever did that but for once she’ll let it slip. She’ll let it slip because she’s too tired and too sore and too much in want of where she’s going now to face off with the Iceman right now.

Where she’s going now… limping and crawling more like but she’s determined. Because she hasn’t seen him for almost three months and because they had had about two weeks to enjoy this relationship they’re having because she’d been off to Earth and because she couldn’t even look at him when she came here. There just hadn’t been time and she’s under observation by Colonel Caldwell. Not really the best prerequisites for a tearful romantic reunion.

Not that that’s their style, anyway.

Anyway, they did send each other e-mails and even letters but that’s just nothing compared to the real thing, most of all when you’re several million light-years away from your new boyfriend and are sitting around on base in the SGC because you’re waiting for your transition to be completed… and preparing for the promotion board and waiting for their decision later. That at least went well and the only reason she couldn’t enjoy the pinning ceremony to the full extend was that it hadn’t been Evan promoting her.

So. The real thing. Right here, right now. Or at least in a moment… oh come on, what’s taking him so long? She rang thirty seconds ago… ah. Yeah. There he is. Not… saying a thing, just… watching.

Okay, yeah, so she doesn’t exactly look like she did when she went off to Earth but… not so bad that he needs a moment to take it all in? So yes, there’s a cut above her left eye that needed stiches and a bruise developing on the left cheek… and yes, a bandaged right hand, because she had to break through a glass wall… and yeah, the ruptured muscle fiber, making her favor her… _oh_.

Kissing… kissing is good. Kissing is awesome. Kissing… needs to be reciprocated. Oh God, yes, yesyesyes. “I missed you. Jesus fucking Christ, _I missed you_.” Oooh, that is even better than being kissed like there’s no tomorrow. A hoarse whisper that tells her there was much more behind the casual, almost businesslike letters and e-mails he sent her and the way he drags her inside…

“ _Fuck_.” Crap, crap, crap! Hand hurts, shoulder hurts, leg _fucking_ hurts!

“I’m sorry, Laura. God, I…” It’s almost… adorable how he is flustered and concerned all of a sudden, when he was so interested in completely different things a moment ago.

Things she still is interested in pretty much. “It’s okay. Just a few bruises. I’m good, Evan. Can we please pick up where we just got interrupted?”

It makes him chuckle and she’s glad because the concern in his eyes told her a different story about how she looks than she likes to tell herself. It is, however, nice that it makes him do things such as gently brushing an errand sweat and soot encrusted strand away from her forehead and kiss her bruised cheek with a tenderness that nearly makes her cry. Suddenly, her voice isn’t stronger than a whisper, either. “We just ran into a spot of trouble. Gonna be okay soon.”

“I know,” he says and tenderly kisses a spot in the crook of her neck exposed from her battered uniform jacket, “Pretty big spot of trouble, if you ask me.”

“But who’s asking you?” she can’t help quipping when his hands wander beneath the jacket and his arms sneak around her midriff.

Careful not to hurt the bandaged one, she sneaks her hands beneath his pajama’s shirt, making a small sound of pleasure touching his smooth and warm skin. God, she missed that… “Laura.” What? What’s with the serious eyes and the stopping the kiss and the stilled hands and everything? “Laura, I…” He _what_? “That mission, I… I’m just glad you came back.” Well, so is she but… “There’s just… if I didn’t know how stupid it would be, I’d… I’d ask you to please never to do that to me, ever again.”

She… hadn’t expected that. And she hadn’t expected him bury his face in the crook of her neck and hugging her so tightly, either. And _most of all_ , she didn’t expect herself to hug him back equally fierce and whispering, “If I didn’t know how stupid it would be, I’d promise you I wouldn’t,” while kissing his temple and burying a hand in his hair.

He takes a moment for himself, all careful and trying not to hurt her and then looks up, kisses her again, very thoroughly, as if he needs to burn it into his mind, so he never forgets. Or at least that’s why _she_ ’s kissing him back just as the same. When they break the kiss… she feels unexpectedly tired. Like suddenly the exhaustion she could keep at bay because there was always something that needed to be done or someone to be taken care of broke the dam of her self-control and came crushing down on her.

Evan… he just looks at her and gives her a short peck on the mouth and says, “Let’s get you tucked in, huh?”

All she can do is nod and then that’s exactly what he does. Helping her out of her boots, her uniform… letting down her hopelessly messed up hair, she never had felt so worn out that she’d _wanted_ anyone helping her with all those mundane tasks but when Evan does it, it’s… sensual and soothing and reassuring all in one. It makes her sigh with contentment when she lies back on the sheets, her face turned to the ceiling and Evan crawling into bed, right beside her.

He lies down with a kiss to her shoulder, one arm across her belly, cradling her to him and the other behind her head, supporting her and when she turns her face towards him, the warm, tired smile on his makes her smile in return. In that moment, she knows. There might be dark days ahead, trying days, days full of pain and exhaustion like today, days of conflict within her team, with the brass, maybe even with him. She knows. But as long as those days always ends with them in bed, like this, she won’t complain. Because this… is the way it’s supposed to be. Just perfect.


End file.
